


What's to Love About Winter?

by countrygirlsfun



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Anxiety, Cuddling & Snuggling, Getting Together, Hospitalization, Hurt Dex, Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love, M/M, Mutual Pining, Napping, Painkillers, Platonic Cuddling, Self Confidence Issues, Sick Dex, hockey injury
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-10
Updated: 2016-08-10
Packaged: 2018-08-07 09:14:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7709377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/countrygirlsfun/pseuds/countrygirlsfun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are four things William Poindexter hates about winter.</p><p>Including but not limited to, the cold, being stuck inside with people and Derek Nurse going stir crazy. And they're only a month in.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What's to Love About Winter?

 

There are four things William Poindexter hates about winter.

Reason #1: the weather.

Will is familiar with what cold is. He knows the variations of it, he knows how to battle it and how to simply weather the storm. He has known frigid, bone chilling, don’t stop moving because you’ll start to freeze cold, from boat trips into the icy Atlantic in January. He _intimately_ knows the difference between chilly and frosty from pre-Christmas camping trips. And he knows, about himself, what his limits are when it comes to what he can stand in exposure before he gets chilled to the bone.

He thought that going to Samwell would mean slightly less harsh winters. But the last two days have been horrible; snow and cold and wind all combining for one miserable Dex. He doesn’t have his snow boots from home yet so he’s constantly walking around with cold feet in soggy shoes.

Luckily, he has the rest of his winter clothes and stuff. But it doesn’t always make a difference because:

Reason to Hate Winter #2: 80% of his life is spent in cold places.

He doesn’t normally resent the fact that he spends so much time in an ice rink. But when he leaves the rink and it is colder outside than it is on the ice it gets old fast. The gym is always on the cool side too; air conditioning blowing cool fresh air throughout the space so people don’t overheat while they work out. His dorm is old and drafty and he’s only on the second floor in a room with a busted radiator. No matter how much he tinkers with it, the thing is still basically useless.

All of that combines to having only two places to go where it is even slightly warmer: class and the Haus. Not that he was in the habit of skipping class when it was warm outside but now he goes just for a chance at getting warmed up and to be able to get his homework done without his fingers being stiff with cold.

But then, being inside all the time leads to:

Reason to Hate Winter #3: people get cooped up together and get sick easier.

He grew up in a household of 8 people, with younger siblings and an older sister and his parents. Dex knows the power one little flu bug can have in spreading from person to person at an alarming rate. He’s watched people drop in attendance like flies in his Intro to Bio lecture over the last week.

There’s a nasty cold virus going around campus that he’s been desperately trying to avoid. Mainly because the people that have stopped showing up to class haven’t returned yet, which means it’s more than a 24-hour kind of virus.

Normally he wouldn’t really care if he got sick. But he knows with the stress of the hockey season, the midterms that just passed and finals coming up that he’s already wearing his immune system thin. If he does get sick, he just knows it’ll get out of control. His mom always used to say he had a sickly constitution and even now he has to work to stay healthy.

So in the winter he is especially conscious of washing his hands after being in a public space, taking his vitamins and eating fresh fruit from the dining hall no matter what. The biggest thing he has to do though, is avoid sick people.

Which, in the winter he already avoids practically everyone because of:

Reason #4: After a month of being cooped up inside together, people start to…get a little weird.

Seriously, no joke. People spend so much time in close proximity with each other, be it teammates, classmates, roommates, _whoever,_ things start to just get weird. And like, it’s normal, it happened in high school too so he honestly was not expecting for college to be different in this one aspect.

Winter affects people in different ways but he honestly thinks Derek Nurse has straight up gone crazy. Dex has, regrettably, become accustomed to it already because it’s actually kind of nice?

Half the time he doesn’t think Nursey knows he’s doing these things, but Dex noticed a change in his lineman’s behavior nearly a month ago. First there was the way they started fighting less, like, noticeably less. To the point that Hall and Murray commented on their improving relationship. Which was ten kinds of awkward. But it’s been nice to not be constantly bickering with Nursey; they actually have _conversations_ and stuff. Like, on bus rides to road games, they have almost calm discussions of plays and how practices have been going and what they need to focus on as they play.

Sometimes, Dex has even woken up with his head still resting on Nursey’s shoulder, meaning he’d slept on Derek’s shoulder without being shrugged off or jostled awake. Which is a minor miracle all by itself.

But combining that, the lack of fighting, the brand new textbook that showed up in his locker before practice one day and catching him staring pretty frequently, Dex is sure there’s something else going on with Nursey.

He is about 99% sure that it’s _not_ because his d-man is harboring feelings for him. Anyone else giving him that kind of treatment he’d consider it, but with Nursey he just can't. Dex already knows that his own feelings, which he has been hiding, are not reciprocated.

Despite assumptions, William Poindexter is not a 100% straight white boy from small town New England. But is also aware of the type of boys and girls he attracts and they are not the beauty, brawns and brains of the likes of Derek Nurse.

Which kind of sucks.

The only explanation he has for the change in Derek’s behavior is that he’s going stir crazy with cabin fever already. He’d expected more from a guy who went to boarding school and, assumingly, spent many summers alone in a brownstone in New York City.

He’s kind of glad, this particular Friday, that he doesn’t have any classes with Nursey for the day.

He’d bundled up when he left his dorm room for the day, putting on layers and even packing an extra sweater into his backpack. But he either overdressed for the weather or he’s running a fever because he is sweltering. Even as he walks out of the building into the cold from his last class of the day, he can feel sweat dripping down his back.

It’s less than pleasant.

His headache isn’t doing much to make him feel like a completely healthy human being either. The small ache he woke up with this morning has grown to a pounding pressure at his temples, which made focusing in his last class a challenge.  But his only plan for the rest of the day is to head over to the Haus, hopefully crash on Chowder’s bed for a nap and then try to stomach a full meal at Bitty’s Team Supper.

He ends up stumbling up the Haus stairs, a little light headed after the walk, and half trips his way through the front door, landing audibly on Holster’s chest.

“Whoa, there,” Holster says, gripping Dex by his biceps when he sways back. He reaches one of his long monkey arms behind Will and shuts the door before he starts tugging him towards the kitchen. “You don’t look good, little d-man.”

“Oh Lord,” Bitty says, hand clutching at invisible pearls before he steps forward to pull Dex out of Holster’s grip and can push him down in a chair.

“I’m fine,” Dex says weakly as Bitty unwraps the scarf from his neck and starts taking off his coat too.

“You’re white as a sheet,” Bitty responds disapprovingly, “and flushed with a fever no doubt. Why didn’t you tell us you’re getting sick?”

“Didn’t know,” he shrugs and Bits glares, lips thin as he contemplates allowing that response.

“Maybe we can nip it in the bud before it turns into a monster,” he says, bustling away towards the first aid kit, only to return with a thermometer.

Dex gets his winter coat jerked off by Holster and then he’s sighing as the cool Haus air hits his sweat soaked shirt. Bitty sticks the thermometer under his tongue a moment later and stands there, arms crossed and concerned until it beeps.

“Oh, thank heavens,” he enthuses as he reads the display, “99 degrees. I can work with a slight fever.”

“Good to know,” Dex says in response, giving Bitty a weak smile and Holster stops looming behind him and jerks his thumb over his shoulder.

“I’m gonna-“ he starts, only to be cut off by Bitty.

“No, I need you to get Dex the spare towels and turn on the space heater in Chowder’s room so it warms up by the time he gets out.”

Dex and Holster just stare at him blankly.

“What?” Bitty asks defensively, “he’s sweatin’ through the collar of his shirt, and comin’ out of a warm shower to a cold room isn’t gonna do him any favors.”

Dex and Holster exchange a look and shrug before Holster grabs him again and manhandles him up out of the chair and towards the stairs.

“Dude,” Dex snaps, with feeling, as his teammate practically shoves him up the first flight of stairs, “I can walk, I just tripped on the stairs coming in, lay off.”

“Someone’s grumpy today,” Holster shoots back but he stops with the pushing.

Sometimes Dex thinks Holster is unaware of his height and strength. Like when he sees the 6-foot-4 hockey giant try to curl up in the same arm chair as Ransom.

Getting to Chris and Lardo’s shared bathroom, he starts to peel out of his clothes and unfortunately, finds that he really has to peel them off of his clammy skin. Dex digs around in the medicine cabinet behind the mirror until he finds a bottle of Tylenol and dry swallows a couple to take the edge off his headache.

By the time he’s undressed completely, Holster has thrown a couple towels at his face and Dex can already hear the soft whirr of the space heater running. So, he belatedly shuts the door to Lardo’s room and jumps in the shower, more than happy to lose the layer of perspiration that built up throughout the day.

The heat and the water pressure from the shower head is _so_ much better than the showers in the dorms. But despite wanting to stay under the relaxing spray, he scrubs down quickly, borrowing from the soap bottles already in the shower.

The steam from the shower and the heater running in the other room keeps him warm as he towels off. He already feels better; the shower, the warmth and the Tylenol seemingly doing wonders to improve his condition.

He is about to reluctantly pull his own clothes back on when he notices a neat stack of clothes out on Chowder’s bed that weren’t there before. He wraps the towel around himself as he shuffles out into the bedroom.

There’s a note on top of a pair of sweats, some fuzzy socks and an undershirt.

_“Bits said you needed some clothes bro. Hope these fit. –Ransom”_

Dex would feel embarrassed at being catered to by his team, but he’s too busy feeling very…cared about. His chest feels warm again but it’s different from earlier. Dex grabs the clothes and returns to the bathroom, picking his boxers out of the pile of his own clothes and pulling them on. The black sweats are only a little loose around his waist, but the drawstring takes care of that. Given the fact that Ransom has at least an inch of height on Dex, he’d probably have to roll up the legs if they didn’t have those elastic things on the bottom keeping them in place around his ankles.

After he’s fully dressed, his own socks on under the slipper socks Ransom left for him and his own sweater from his backpack on over the undershirt, he finishes toweling off his hair so it stops dripping down his face and neck. Once the towel is hanging over the curtain rod to dry he goes back out to Chowder’s room, turns down the heater, points it toward the foot of the bed and then goes to lay down on it.

A few minutes later he’s bordering on being _perfectly_ warm and on the edge of sleep when the door opens and Chowder and Farmer come giggling into the room.

He’s so glad Chris tripped into her, landed in a pile of leaves, and walked away from it in the end with a girlfriend.

“Dex!” Chowder cries, sunny smile brightening Will’s day further, “You’re in my bed!”

“Yeah,” Dex says on a laugh as he slowly sits up, swinging his legs back over the edge of the bed, “I’ll clear out if you need it.”

Chris and Farmer exchange a look before they shrug in unison and drop their backpacks.

“We can share,” Caitlin says as they both walk towards him.

“Uh, I should warn you,” Dex starts to say as Chowder pushes him gently back down on the bed while Caitlin crawls around to lay against the wall, “Bitty said I had a slight fever, I might have a cold.”

Chowder shrugs again as he adjusts the pillow under his head and nudges for Dex to scoot back a little, pressing him more fully into the middle of the bed. Caitlin snakes an arm around his waist as she cuddles into his back.

“I have faith in my immune system to survive a nap,” she says behind him and Chowder nods in agreement.

“That is what you were aiming for right? A nap before supper?”

“Uh, yeah,” Dex answers, still a little bewildered, “yeah that was the goal.”

“Fine, then we nap,” Chris says decisively and Dex decides not to argue and just give in. He is much too comfortable to do much more than close his eyes and drift off to sleep.

He wakes up an indeterminate amount of time later, still perfectly warm, but Caitlin’s arm has tightened around his waist, her nose pressed into his hair she’s so close to him. To be fair, Chowder has skootched closer too so Dex’s face is practically buried in his chest, their legs now tangled together.

He doesn’t figure out what woke him up in the first place until he hears Bitty giggle again. Dex slowly pops his head up, blearily blinking at Bitty and Nursey standing in the doorway.

Bitty just coos and Nursey huffs before crossing his arms and walking away.

“What’s up?” Dex croaks, voice rough with sleep.

“Supper’s ready,” Bitty says shortly before he giggles again and walks out of the doorway.

Dex flops back down as Caitlin and Chris both roll flat on their backs, yawning as they wake up. Their level of coordination is a little adorable. Caitlin pats at Dex’s chest once he’s lying flat again.

“10 out of 10, would nap with you again,” she says seriously and Dex looks over at her.

“I didn’t move?” he questions, not 100% awake yet.

“You blocked Chris’s kicking,” she says with a shrug and Dex can _feel_ Chowder pouting.

“You never told me I kick you,” he says petulantly, leaning up over Will.

“Nope,” Dex says abruptly, “I am not going to be in the middle of this. Cuddling was one thing, this conversation is another,” he explains as he sits up and drags himself out of their warm embrace.

“Chris, it’s not that big of a deal,” Dex can hear Farmer reassure him as he grabs his backpack and leaves them to smooth things over. Overexposure to their healthy relationship can at times be so endearing it’s nauseating.

Ten minutes later and Dex is comfortably ensconced in the armchair in the living room. Bitty had insisted he sit on a sheet so they control the spread of possible germs and Dex had been slightly offended at the idea that he had worse germs than the chair had all by itself. Still, there was no questioning Bitty on goings on in the Haus so he humbly accepted his spot and a mug of steaming soup. The rest of the team are eating some very healthy looking tacos while he slurps down the chicken noodle soup Bitty had fixed for him.

Nursey looks particularly offended by the vegetables that are filling his tortillas as he comes and sits down on the end of the couch closest to Dex. He keeps shooting these little glances at Dex while they eat and the conversation flows through the living room and the kitchen. It’s normal, well, Nursey’s new normal behavior at least, to repeatedly look at Dex when they’re in the same room.

Although, the more times Nursey’s gaze stops at his nose as he eats his soup, Dex can’t help but think maybe this time he’s got the wrong idea. After the 5th glance in half as many minutes he drops his spoon into his mug with a clatter and rubs at his nose.

“Bro,” he asks quietly, “is there something on my face or something?”

To Dex’s internal delight, Derek looks like a deer caught in the headlights, his cheeks tinging pink before he ducks his head, poking at the food left on his plate.

“Nah, man, you- you’re good,” he finally answers and Dex resists the urge to huff.

He drinks down the rest of his soup, feeling more tired than he was before his shower and nap with Chowder and Farmer. Still, he pushes himself up out of the chair and makes his way carefully to the kitchen, shuffling his feet along as he goes. He thinks he hears someone groan behind him but he can’t really be sure who it was as he makes his way towards the sink.

“Oh dear,” Bitty says when Dex turns away from putting his mug and spoon in the sink and leans against the counter. “You still look pale, Dex. Are you going to be okay to walk all the way back to your dorm?” he asks worriedly.

Dex just tries to smile reassuringly down at him, honestly he’s just tired, he’s going to be fine.

“I’m fine, Bits. I promise. I’ve survived worse things than a slight fever living in a house with 6 other kids,” he tells him, and apparently the rest of the kitchen who tuned in to the conversation. “But, I am going to duck out and get some sleep before practice tomorrow.”

Bitty nods, still looking concerned as he pats Dex on the arm, “See you at Faber, then.”

Dex nods and bids the rest of the team farewell, taking off the slipper socks he’d been wearing around and handing them back to Ransom with a promise to get his clothes back to him ASAP. It’s only after he’s bundled up in his coat, damp shoes and scarf and walking out the door that he notices Nursey following him.

Dex shoots a glance at him when he matches Dex’s pace silently.

“Just decided to abruptly leave just as Bitty pulled a pie out for dessert?” he asks a little sarcastically and Nursey, curiously, ducks his head again.

“Somebody had to make sure you didn’t trip and fall into the river on your way back,” he mumbles and Dex hides his grin in his scarf.

See? Stir crazy.

*

Derek is going crazy.

Part of it is self-inflicted torture, he’s aware, but it’s just _really_ hard to keep his eyes to himself when he could be looking after Dex. He’d almost rethought his plan to stop picking useless fights with Dex because then he wouldn’t get to watch Dex walk away in a huff.

But there’s so much more to Dex as a person that makes Derek crazy.

Like, the way he is so completely focused at whatever task he’s putting his hands to. Whether it’s a line of code, a new play on the ice, or tinkering with Betsy in the kitchen he always has this look. This look of serious concentration with an unreasonably cute furrow between his brows and the tip of his tongue poking out the side of his mouth as he thinks through the next ten steps of the problem.

Or the red that rises to his cheeks when he gets riled up and truly mad or really exerts himself on the ice or in the gym. Derek literally almost walked into a wall the day he walked past Dex pulling his shirt off in the gym to wipe the sweat from his face. The sight of Will’s lithe torso, clearly defined six pack abs and the flush travelling down from his nape to his navel, well.

It stopped foot traffic in the gym for a solid minute so at least Derek was in good company.

And there’s the way the sun reflects off his eyes, the way his long fingers dance across his keyboard and lace up his hockey gear. The way that flush returns only after a long, long night of drinking at the Haus because Dex can handle his liquor as well as Lardo can. There’s that peaceful look on his face when he’s sleeping on road games, leaning gently against Derek’s shoulder. His eyelashes all fanned out and dark against his freckled cheeks.

Derek is unashamed to admit, to himself at least, that he wrote three whole poems about those twenty minutes Dex was asleep on him.

It’s not all peaches and cream though. Will is still annoyingly taller than Derek. By like, an _inch_ . Which is just _dumb_. Derek may, in a fit of pique, have picked his fro out so they’d be the same height. And Dex is still frustratingly oblivious to the ways Derek has tried to woo him.

Seriously, it’s not like he goes around buying $200 textbooks for everyone who lusts after it.

Honestly, that boy was lusting after a textbook about computer programs, _how_ is he the object of Derek Nurse’s affections?

He realized a couple weeks ago that these feelings were more than just finding someone aesthetically pleasing. And in his brain, the natural progression to these types of feelings leads to dating. But to date someone requires one party to ask the other if they’d like to do such a thing and, well.

Derek has always been on the receiving end of such questions? He’s never actually had the courage to ask anyone out. Sure there were people he would have liked to ask but they always beat him to the punch. So of course he’s dated before but he’s never initiated such a relationship.

And Dex being amazing, hard to read, private and reserved, William Poindexter has not made things easier for Derek to know how to approach the subject. Or if he should even try.

But Friday was a new and exciting brand of torture.

Firstly, he’d been subjected to a sleep-soft Dex all cuddled up with Farmer and Chowder. Derek actually had to walk away before he let himself run over and join the snuggle-fest on Chowder’s bed.

Then, _then_ , Dex came down the stairs wearing this thick cable-knit sweater. The dark grey and the high collar so fucking attractive with his eyes and his hair. The sweater was one thing but watching him fold his long legs up in the chair with him with his tall knitted slipper sock covered toes just poking out from beneath his knees was just _unfair._

And Derek knew, from the way his eyes were pinched, his face pale beneath his freckles and the hunch of his shoulders that Dex had a headache. But of course, the icing on the adorableness cake: Dex’s nose. His nose was all pink from the fever Bitty said he had and the steam from his soup and Derek got caught staring. And then his adorable slow shuffle from his chair to the kitchen was just too much, Nursey had groaned out loud before he could contain it.

He’s still not sure what he said to explain why he was following Dex back to the dorms that night but it was sarcastic and covered the fact that he couldn’t handle staying behind at the Haus just in case someone asked him something he didn’t want to answer. He doesn’t know if the team knows about his stupid crush but that night was not the time to find out if they do.

The weekend was kind of lame after that night because Dex stayed secluded in his dorm room the whole time. Derek subsequently spent the weekend pouting and hating himself a little for it.  

Now it’s Thursday and Derek has watched Dex get progressively worse at practice in the morning and during the classes they share. Not that his playing got worse but Dex sure as hell has gotten sicker as the week has gone on. Yesterday Lardo showed up to practice with box of extra soft tissues and a plastic sack and just left them on the boards so Will could blow his nose throughout practice.

Today, he’s coughing.

It’s ‘a productive cough’ as Derek’s mom would say, meaning he’s coughing up stuff out of his lungs and throat. But, it’s kind of distracting. And it’s not very conducive to running drills when every few minutes one of the main players has to stop along the boards to cough up three tissues worth of gunk.

“Poindexter!” Coach Hall yells, finally, “Get on the bench. Davis, get out here.”

Derek watches Dex skate over to the bench, head hanging low after he pulls his helmet off. He’s itching to go see if Will is okay when he forces himself to focus on the drill.

30 minutes later when Derek looks up, Dex, the tissue box and garbage bag are all missing from the bench behind the boards.

Well, shit.

*

It’s been a long time since Dex has fought with a coach. The last time he even argued with one of his coaches was freshman year when the guy tried to put him in goal. Dex is good enough on the ice but he is not goalie material.

He just cannot believe the decision Hall is making right now.

“I am a hockey player,” Dex says through gritted teeth, his hands clenched tightly into fists at his sides, “I have played through broken _bones_ , I think I’ll manage to survive playing through a damn cold.”

Hall doesn’t rise to meet his aggravated mood, just stands there with his arms crossed and his face calm.

“That may be true, but I need you more next week and you’ve only gotten worse continuing to practice this week. You’ll sit this game and if you’re not better by Monday you’ll sit that practice too.”

Dex sputters in outrage at that decision but Hall is unbothered.

“You either lose the skates and pads and come sit on the bench or you can stay in the locker room until the game is over,” he announces before abruptly turning away, leaving Dex to stand there gaping until Ransom comes out of the locker room and finds him.

“Bro,” he says gently, and Dex closes his mouth, jaw clenching as tight as his fists. “Hall is right man, we need you, always, but next week is way more important this this game. Hoster tried to convince him to let you stay dressed for the game on the bench but Murray knew you’d end up on the ice if they allowed it.”

“I can play through this,” Dex argues, even as he feels his chest tighten, his throat start to get that tickle in the back like he’s going to start coughing. “It’s not that-“ he chokes on his words as he starts to cough and Ransom’s face softens while Dex collapses back against the wall until he can breathe again.

“Fine,” he sighs when it’s all over and Rans steps closer to put a heavy hand on his shoulder, “I’ll sit the bench.”

“It’s the right call, bro,” Ransom says with a silly grin on his face and Dex just scowls.

*

Dex’s phone buzzes again. He doesn’t lift a hand to check it though. He’s sulking. Sulking? Brooding? Wallowing in self-pity and anxiety? Whatever the term is, he’s been doing it all day.

Practice this morning was particularly exhausting. His cold, which did not go away over the weekend, has settled in his chest, making it both easier to hide from his coaches and more difficult to breathe. It wouldn’t be so bad if it didn’t sit on his chest like a weight, shortening his breath and constantly feeling suffocating. Still, he’s been staying for full practices after being benched for the weekend but today was exceptionally draining.

Thursdays he has a break between practice and class, a whole hour of time to do whatever he wants. Typically, that means he goes to breakfast with the team or gets some last minute homework done, or both. But today he’d decided he was going to take a quick nap to gear up for the rest of his day.

Three hours later he woke up to a coughing fit and just ended up staying right where he was. Everything hurt, his throat, his chest, his head, his whole _body_. But, after his nap which caused him to miss every single class for the day, he couldn’t fall back asleep.

Instead, he laid in bed, alternating between coughing so long and hard that he wound up with tears streaming down his face and overthinking everything he possibly could.

Normally he’s not so harsh on himself. He’s done a decent job managing his self-esteem since getting out of high school. But apparently all it takes to throw him into a self-questioning, self-doubting mess is an ass-kicking cold.

You name it he’s thought about it today while curled up beneath his favorite blankets. His ears are too big, his hair too vibrant. He’s too hot-headed and too stubborn. He’s never going to meet someone who can overlook all his flaws.

He’s not a strong enough skater, he can’t connect on the ice like Ransom and Holster manage to. He’s not actually an asset to the team, especially not like this, sick and weak and more worried about staving off the next cough than defending the puck and making plays. The game tomorrow is going to prove it, that they’ve put all this trust in him when he doesn’t deserve it. He’s going to wind up coughing on the ice, messing up a play, and letting everyone down.

Then the coaches will realize he’s not worth his scholarship, they’ll kick him off the team and he’ll have to drop out of Samwell and go back to the lobster boat until he can save up enough for community college to finish his degree.

He’s literally scrolling through the options he has that would be within driving distance of his hometown when yet another text comes through that he fully intends to ignore.

But it’s not from the group chat, and it’s not Nursey or Chowder or even Bitty, it’s Jack.

Jack Zimmermann.

Dex didn’t even know Jack had kept his number.

**You alive there, Poindexter?**

Will reads the text in Jack’s Canadian inflection and smiles briefly for what he thinks is the first time all day. He can’t ignore Jack. He couldn’t if Jack was still his captain but even now, he doesn’t think he has it in him to leave this text unread.

He responds after staring at the message for a solid minute.

**_Yeah, I’m here_ **

The little grey bubble indicating that Jack is typing pops up immediately. Dex holds his breath for whatever is going to come next.

**Bits said you’re sick. What else is going on?**

Dex sighs and stares at the message for another minute, thinking. Bitty must text Jack on the regular to relate that he was both sick and avoiding everyone today.

**He also said both Chow and Nurse are worried about you so…**

The second message comes through before he can think up a reasonable answer to the first and once Dex reads the second he groans. He does not want to deal with this right now. But he already responded so he can’t play it off like he was asleep and didn’t get the messages.

Damn it.

He’ll blame his cold and his exhausted frame of mind for his response for the rest of time.

**_I’m just realizing I’m not good for this team_ **

He hits send before he can rethink it or erase it, but he regrets it as soon as he does. Why _why_ would he admit something like that?

He groans again when instead of another text, his phone starts to ring instead.

He answers.

“What in God’s green earth would make you think you’re not good for Samwell’s hockey team William Poindexter?” Jack asks, sounding as angry as Dex has ever heard him.

“I just, I don’t know,” he answers because he doesn’t truly know why he thinks that, it’s just that he _does_.

Jack huffs through the phone and Will can just see the face he’s making, that annoyed but fond look that’s usually reserved for Bitty’s twitter antics.

“Dex, listen to me. You are a vital part of that team and not just as a hockey player. Those guys need someone down to earth and who has healthy study habits. That’s not even going into how you, probably literally, saved Derek’s life by implementing Nursey Patrol. Yes, I know that was you and not Bitty. Just, I know sometimes stuff can happen to make it easy to doubt your abilities,” yeah no shit, Dex thinks, “but you can’t let that voice win. I’m not saying it’s easy but I know if anyone can beat it, you can.”

“Yeah?” Dex asks, voice a little small and still embarrassed to be having this conversation at all.

“Yeah. Now, go get yourself some of that dining hall food for me, eh? This NHL diet is the worst.”

Dex huffs a laugh, “Will do, captain.”

They say goodbye and Dex shakes his head at himself before he re-situates himself on the bed so he can plug in his phone and read through his messages. Most of the notifications are for the group message but most of the group message has been about how no one has seen him all day. Nursey, Chowder, Ransom and Bitty have all sent him texts outside the group message asking in various ways where the hell he is.

**_I’m alive I promise._ **

He shoots off the quick message to the group and gets various responses. From thumbs up emojis from Ransom and Holster to Chowder sending a message of all exclamation points before exclaiming his worry. As if Dex hadn’t gotten that memo through the 10 missed private texts from him.

Dex checks the time and tries to remember Nursey’s schedule before getting out of the group message and scrolling down to Nursey’s name.

**_Bro, are you still at the dining center?_ **

The reply is quick, too quick for Nursey to be eating and just checking his phone. He must have had his phone in his hand already. Why does Dex know these kinds of things?

**Nah man I’m upstairs already.  
You need food though bro?**

If the second message hadn’t come through, Will would have just dug around for a granola bar or something he could find in his room. But Nursey has two healthy lungs and could walk to the Haus and get him some food from Bitty. He’d probably write a poem about the cold walk anyway. Like a nerd.

**_I wouldn’t ask but I haven’t had anything all day_ **  
**_I’m starving bro_ **

The reply is again, really _really_ fast.

**Give me 20 minutes.**

It’s 30 minutes later that there’s a knock on Dex’s door and he has to haul himself out of bed, blanket wrapped around his shoulders as he shuffles to the door. He ~~probably~~ definitely smells a bit from his day in bed, and he has no idea what he looks like beyond sleep mussed and flushed with fever.

But when he opens the door and sees Nursey standing there with a bag of food containers in one hand and a thermos in the other he forgets to feel self-conscious when his stomach rumbles.

“That does not smell like dining center food, bro,” he finally says waving Derek into the room so he stops standing there staring.

“I’ve been forbidden to go into your room,” he says by way of a response and holds the bag out. “Bitty said I can’t catch whatever you are sick with.”

Dex nods as he leans against the open door heavily. It makes sense, they can’t both of them get sick, one is bad enough.

“Fine,” he sighs, “What’d you bring me?” he asks, reaching out towards the bag with his free hand, his other both holding the blanket around him and bracing him against the door.

Nursey looks down at the bag before lifting it up and handing it to Dex, keeping his eyes locked on the bag as he does. If Dex didn’t know better he’d say Derek was hiding a blush. But that’s impossible.

“There’s um, tomato basil soup and a couple grilled cheese sandwiches in there. Annie threw in some crackers too and made me bring this thermos of tea for you. Apparently it’s your favorite?”

Dex feels his cheeks heat up. He’d only ever told Annie about how much he loves tea. Dex isn’t the kind of person who has the time or money to spend sitting in a coffee shop sipping his favorite hot beverage day in and day out. He can’t drop 4 or 5 bucks every day on a steaming cup of comfort. But, he has taken to going to Annie’s on Sunday evenings if he feels he deserves a little reward for something throughout the week.

There’s been, ‘got an A on an assignment’ iced tea, a couple ‘got two assists in the game’ Arnold Palmers, and once he had a whole pot of ‘missing home’ tea.

It’s his time and space away from the team, away from everyone. He’ll take the cushy arm chair in the back corner, set up Netflix on half his screen and whatever assignment needs attention on the other half. With a scone and a steaming cup of tea on the stand next to him he has spent hours there, tucked away by himself in Annie’s.

Annie wasn’t supposed to blab about his secret respite.

Dex clears his throat and grabs for the bag of food first, then the thermos.

“No protein, Nurse? Hockey players cannot survive on carbs alone,” he deflects and Nursey shrugs.

“She said something about putting some bacon in one of the sandwiches. Should get you through until breakfast though, and besides, it’s not like you’re gearing up for a game or something,” he replies easily enough and Dex turns back to glare weakly after putting the food on his nightstand. His legs are weak enough now that he should sit down but he stands a little taller again instead.

“Why wouldn’t I be gearing up for a game? We have one tomorrow,” he shoots back, trying to keep his irritation in check, the guy did just bring him food _and_ tea.

“Dude, you were out all day today,” Nursey says back, something suspiciously like concern lacing his voice, “You cannot be thinking of playing tomorrow. We’re playing Quinnipiac, they’re one of the most physical teams in the league. And you-“

“I’ve practiced all week just fine,” Dex cuts in, hating that after an hour of not coughing once he can feel a tickle in the back of his throat that doesn’t bode well for the next few minutes. “I will play through this, Coach benched me last week because I need to play this one. If he-“ he stops to take a deep breath, that tickle stealing his air for a moment, “he lets me play,” he continues, “I’m playing.”

The last word comes out all croaky as the cough escapes him and he lets it run its course. He coughs and coughs, bending over to brace himself, one hand wrapped around his ribs, the other on his knee keeping him mostly upright, the blanket falling off his shoulders to the floor.

His legs start to feel even weaker the longer he coughs without getting enough air and suddenly there are hands on him, guiding and pushing as he stumbles back to the bed. He gratefully collapses on the mattress, propped up on his pillow against the headboard as he rides it out.

Once the coughs slow and he can get a breath in, there is his water glass pressed to his lips. He closes his eyes as he takes a sip, unable to look at Nursey after his body betrayed his words so completely.

When he finally has his breath back, Nursey is still hovering next to the bed and Dex gathers the courage to look up, a sheepish smile tugging at his lips. But Nursey looks pissed.

“Thanks, man,” Dex tries and Nursey nods jerkily.

“Yeah, whatever. See you tomorrow,” he says abruptly, turning on his heel and walking quickly out of Dex’s dorm room, slamming the door shut behind him.

Ugh, seriously? What the hell.

*

Waking up the next morning Will has a plan to survive his day: take everything one baby step at a time.

Getting up, showered and dressed goes off without a hitch thanks to the last of his tea, now cold obviously but still helpful, and a throat lozenge. Breakfast is pretty easy to get through, even if he has to endure it with almost angry glances from Nursey.

Classes are easy enough, all he has to do is take notes and suck on his cough drops. His chest feels heavy but he’s not coughing so he takes it as a win. It’s all going so well he forgets to put his scarf over his mouth when he walks outside and then he’s coughing from the cold air sucking the breath from his lungs on his way to lunch.

But he survives, he just leaned against the side of the building for a moment until he had it under control, took some measured breaths through his scarf to regain his balance and set off for the dining hall once again.

Lunch is basically the same as breakfast with Nursey sharing clipped conversation with him and half concerned, half irritated glares the whole time but Dex doesn’t care much. He’s just happy that he’s feeling well enough to play tonight.

He doesn’t have any classes after lunch so instead of going back to the Haus and watching every else’s pre-game rituals like normal, he just trudges back to his own dorm for a nap. He’s not exactly tired but he knows he’ll sleep if he gives his body a chance to rest. So he strips down, crawls under the covers on his bed and sets an alarm on his phone to wake him up with plenty of time to walk over to Faber before the game.

The locker room is always a loud, boisterous place, and a night before a game is no exception. It’s easy for him to just keep his head down, get his pads on and his skates laced up. He even goes as far as putting his crappy ear buds in to pretend like he’s just getting in the zone for the game.

But Nursey’s locker stall is right next to his. So even as Dex sits and tries to mind his own business, he has Nursey right next to him, anger gone from his glances and now he just looks worried. The whole time the team is getting ready, waiting for Hall and Murray to come in, Will only has to cough once and he just swallows it, his chest jerking with the effort before he grabs his water bottle and takes a slow drink.

He’s saved from Nursey making any comments by the coaches coming in to the room and starting to go over strategy.

One thing at a time, Will reminds himself as they walk out to the ice to start warms ups.

One thing at a time.

He should have known his good luck wouldn’t last though. He should have known antagonizing the opposing team’s forward for the first two periods would backfire. He should have realized a coughing attack was coming and subbed out. Should have, should have, should have.

But no, instead he stayed on the ice, hung back by the goal as the puck went across the ice to the other side. What he thought was merely a tickle in his throat turned out to be a coughing fit waiting to happen. As the coughs started he bent over, resting his stick across his knees to keep himself upright.

But as he did, the other team’s goalie shot the puck right towards the forward that had hung back on their side of the ice. So with the puck right next to Dex, the check the forward gave him was completely legal. In a sense. A check to regain possession of the puck would have been legal.

Dropping his shoulder, shoving it into Will’s chest and then taking a fall, putting all 200lbs of hockey muscle behind the hit probably isn’t legal.

But Will isn’t really thinking about that. He’s mostly thinking about the crack he’d felt at being slammed between the ice and the forward’s entire body.

Time gets all syrupy and slow for what feels like forever. His helmet is off, and he can hear it bounce on the ice away from him and the player on top of him.

Then he realizes he can’t breathe and suddenly time speeds up, everything rushing at him. He’s gasping, his body still trying to cough and failing. There’s a flurry of movement above him and then the pressure on his chest gets removed. If he could think past his panic and pain he’d realize someone had pulled the opposing team’s player away from him at last.

But he’s mostly focusing on the way the black spots are creeping into his vision, the longer he goes without getting a full breath.

“Dex!” he hears someone yell, “Will, open your eyes!”

But he doesn’t remember closing them and he doesn’t have the energy to open them again so he just allows the blackness to surround him.

*

“Will, William are you awake,” a strange voice asks and Dex blinks his eyes open. There’s something over his mouth and nose, he’s lying on something hard and there’s something making a horrible noise. He blinks awake further and everything comes rushing at him again.

He’s lying on a gurney in an ambulance, an oxygen mask covering his face and an EMT hovering above him, asking him another question.

“Will, squeeze my hand if you can hear me,” he hears clearly and feels a calloused hand take his own gently.

He squeezes it and tries to stay calm.

“Good, good job. Do you remember what happened?” the man asks calmly, giving Dex a gentle smile like squeezing his hand was an impressive feat.

Dex nods slowly. He remembers the hit, going down and staying down, someone yelling out his name before he passed out.

“We’re taking you in to make sure there’s no internal bleeding, but you have at least one broken rib. Have you taken any medications, drugs, or alcohol in the last 12 hours?”

Dex furrows his brow, unsure how he’s supposed to answer that question. He goes to lift a hand to move the oxygen mask away but the EMT beats him to it, raising it away from his mouth enough that Will could be heard.

“Nothing. Just cough drops and tea last night,” he says, surprised at how weak his voice is. The EMT nods and replaces the mask, the steady flow of oxygen trickling into his lungs despite his impaired breathing capabilities.

“Bad cough?” he inquires and Dex nods in response.

“Okay, we’re just pulling in to the hospital,” he explains and Dex nods again before he closes his eyes. Everything is a little overwhelming at the moment, it can’t hurt to just let things happen around him right?

The doors of the ambulance open just as soon as the vehicle comes to a stop and then everything is a flurry of words and movement as he’s unloaded and the EMT’s report his condition. His hand feels cold after the EMT lets go and Dex finds himself feeling more overwhelmed than he anticipated. He wishes someone had ridden with him, Bitty maybe. No, no he wishes Nursey was here with him, holding his hand and giving him worried glances as they roll him inside and transfer him from one gurney to another.

He gets poked and prodded and rolled from the ER to X-ray to a private room. He’s been stuck with an IV, has a nasal-cannula feeding his lungs oxygen, his ribs are wrapped and there’s a monitor beeping and keeping track of his heart rate and blood oxygen levels.

Falling asleep is as easy as biting into one of Bitty’s pies. One minute he’s awake, thoughts fuzzy after all the activity and movements and the next he’s asleep.

It doesn’t last long though, he starts coming up from the hazy fog of sleep to the sound of people arguing. It’s not as loud as it should be but maybe the guys have finally realized they need to be quiet in some places. Especially in a hospital.

When he blinks his eyes open he’s unsurprised to find everyone crammed into his room. He’s not really sure how that got approved by any of the nursing staff but he’d be willing to bet being pressured by both Ransom and Holster, their bulk and their puppy dog eyes some unsuspecting nurse had inadvertently allowed the invasion of Samwell’s men’s hockey team.

Someone is holding his hand and for one moment he thinks it’s Nursey. But when he turns his head to the left he sees it’s Bitty sitting there, face pinched with worry as he grips Dex’s hand. Right. Nursey wouldn’t hold his hand, that was only an errant, pain meds induced dream.

“Dex? Dex are you awake this time?” Bitty asks and when Dex furrows his brow in confusion and nods, he turns to the room at large and hushes them.

Bitty stands, keeping his hand firmly grasping Dex’s as he raises the other to brush his hair back.

“How are you feeling?” he asks gently and Dex thinks about shrugging before he realizes that could be bad with a broken rib.

“Floaty,” he hears himself say and that was not what he meant to say, where did that come from. Like, he does feel floaty but he hadn’t been actively thinking about it? The team laughs though, a collective sigh of relief making Dex get that warm feeling in his chest again. Feeling cared about is kind of…really nice.

Ransom and Holster are shoulder to shoulder along the side of his bed opposite Bitty. Chowder is at the foot of the bed, looking very much like he’s gripping the hard plastic to keep himself in place and from doing something foolish. Like crawl into the bed with Dex. Chow is tactile and Will doesn’t honestly mind the hugs and cuddles, especially since Shitty left. But a hospital bed isn’t truly big enough for two hockey dudes to fit comfortably, especially when one has broken ribs.

Nursey is, well, he’s the furthest from Dex but he’s also the one who looks the most concerned. Or maybe it’s anger, like he said, things are kind of fuzzy and floaty right now. He doesn’t know what to expect next but it isn’t for Nursey to explode into an angry tirade.

“I can’t believe you,” he starts and Dex looks over, and so does the rest of the team. “You never should have played tonight,” he continues, growing louder the more he lets loose, “First you were sick and now you’re laid up in a hospital bed and you’re lucky that guy only broke one rib! What were you thinking?” he asks angrily, looking like he’s working himself up into more yelling but then Ransom is in front of him, cutting him off and talking quietly.

Dex watches Nursey huff and then deflate before stalking out of the hospital room completely leaving him lying there a little stunned.

“Dex, hey,” Bitty soothes, “breathe buddy,” he instructs and Dex realizes he’d been close to hyperventilating, the machine next to him beeping rapidly. He closes his eyes and takes as deep of a breath as he can manage without aggravating his ribs. A few slow breaths and calm reassurances from Bitty later and he’s got himself under control again.

“Sorry,” he croaks out and then Holster’s big hand lands gently on his shoulder and Ransom is back at his side, holding his other hand. It’s overwhelming in a good way being surrounding by his teammates and their concern.

“Don’t apologize for feeling, bro,” Holster says, sounding eerily like Shitty when he does.

Before anybody can say anything else, explain what happened after the hit, excuse Nursey’s behavior or anything, a doctor walks into the room and stops short at the hockey giants filling the space.

“Who let you all in here?” he demands and everyone but Bitty gets a sheepish look on their faces.

“Uh, a nurse? We’re his captains and-“

“I don’t care,” the doctor cuts in and Dex squeezes Bitty’s hand in silent communication. If anyone stays with him he wants it to be Bitty. “All of you, out. He’ll be ready for visitors tomorrow.”

Chowder looks ready to throw down, like he wants to demand they be able to stay but Ransom and Holster shush him before he can make a scene similar to Nursey’s.

“I’m staying, he doesn’t have family in town and I’m not leaving him alone,” Bitty says fiercely and Dex sinks back into the pillow in relief. He loves Bitty.

“Fine, but the rest of you are leaving. Now,” the doctor orders as he strides the rest of the way into the room, grabbing Will’s chart from the foot of the bed as the boys timidly wave goodbye and leave the room.

The doctor’s examination isn’t very pleseant. It’s more poking, prodding, questions and examinations.

“Well, even if you hadn’t broken a rib in your game tonight you would have wound up here regardless,” he explains and Dex cocks his head to the side confused.

“Your x-rays have shown that you have pneumonia, young man,” he explains and Dex feels his eyes go wide. He knew he was sick but he didn’t think it was _that_ bad. “You’ll be here for at least the next day, probably the whole weekend so we can monitor the fluid build-up in your lungs. If you hadn’t gone and gotten yourself a broken rib you would have been able to just go home with some antibiotics and cough suppressants.”

This guy really needs to work on his bedside manner. Dex isn’t sure doctors are supposed to be so accusatory with their patients.

“A nurse will be by later to check on you but we’ve already started a round of antibiotics and a saline drip to get you rehydrated,” the doctor finishes shortly and then is stalking out of the room.

“Well,” Bitty says with a huff, “that man leaves a lot to be desired in his patient care.”

Dex laughs lightly, groaning and wrapping an arm around his ribs when it jostles them, sending a sharp pain through his chest.

“No kidding, Bits,” he says anyway, waving off Bitty’s concerned look. “So what happened after the hit? I don’t remember much on the ice besides my head hitting it.”

Bitty’s lips thin, pressed together in a tight line in disapproval.

“You went down and Chowder left the goal faster than any of us could stop him. He was on that guy and getting him off you so fast it was crazy. Ransom and Holster both had to pull him off the guy, he almost got ejected from the game.”

Dex feels his eyes go wide.

“Chowder? Chris fought that guy?”

“Chowder kicked that guy’s ass, yes,” Bitty says, a smile teasing the edges of his mouth, “You’re his best friend, well, one of them. Pretty sure he’d do the same for someone who took a fall on Nursey too.”

“Yeah,” Dex says with a happy smile. Chow is the best, he’s going to have to get the guy a new Sharks hoodie as soon as he gets out of the hospital. Maybe someone will bring him his homework and he can order one online.

Bitty hesitates before he continues, his free hand fidgeting with the thin blanket covering Dex’s legs.

“Nursey, he tried to keep you awake but you’d passed out before the medics could get out on the ice to you. We were all kind of, well, freaking out at that point. You weren’t really breathing and you must have bit your cheek or your lip because there was blood in your mouth and, well…”

“What?” Dex asks curiously.

“Let’s just say we won the game through the use of some, legally questionable checks,” he explains and Dex smiles.

“You guys kicked their asses didn’t you?” he asks, already knowing the answer.

“I have never seen Nursey skate so aggressively or land as many checks as he did in those last few minutes. No one wanted to drag out the game any longer than necessary. Once we knew you were going to the hospital we did everything possible to end the game and end it in our favor,” Bitty says, starting out gentle but ending firmly, as if needing to make the point clear. His team has his back.

Dex always knew that, but it’s still nice to see it in action.

He nods in response, feeling that familiar overwhelming sense of being cared about rise up in his chest once again. Maybe one day it’ll stop being a surprise that people care about him.

“Speaking of Nursey,” Bitty starts again before trailing off and Dex looks at him, waiting patiently. Bits huffs again and rolls his eyes at himself.

“Is there something there? Between you two?” he asks finally and Dex lets his head drop back into the pillows again as he sighs.

“No,” he admits and Bitty raises an eyebrow at him, a silly grin growing on his face.

“But you want there to be?” he prompts and Dex shrugs slightly. He hadn’t really meant to be so obvious about it but if there’s anyone he’d want to confide in, it’s Bitty.

“Maybe,” he says reluctantly, “but it doesn’t matter,” he counters, “Derek doesn’t- I’m not- It doesn’t matter. It won’t happen.”

“Oh, my precious little frogs,” Bitty coos happily, brushing the hair back from Dex’s forehead gently again, “all grown up and finally getting along.”

Dex smiles and huffs another small laugh, careful not to jerk his ribs.

“I thought the freshman were the frogs,” he deflects and Bitty, thankfully, rolls with it.

It’s comforting, lying there listening to Bitty ramble about how Dex, Nursey, and Chowder are The Frogs and that that nickname will always describe them. He switches quickly back to the game, telling Dex all about the rest of the final period and how Ransom and Holster had shut down the other team’s offense quite brutally.

When he falls asleep again, it’s with Bitty holding his hand and he knows when he wakes up, he won’t be alone. He can freak out about admitting his feelings for Nursey and what this injury means to his hockey career when he wakes up.

*

Over the weekend, the team takes shifts keeping Dex company in his hospital room. Nursey is allowed to go but he’s not allowed to go alone. It’s kind of…sucky. He doesn’t get a chance to apologize or explain or even talk really because it’s never just the two of them.

But given his behavior after the game the team are all unwilling to leave him alone with Dex, apparently anticipating tempers to flare again.

Nursey had been wrong to yell but if anyone knew- if the _team_ knew how he felt about-

Well, if he wasn’t such a coward and could articulate his feelings, maybe he wouldn’t have yelled at his crush as he laid in a hospital bed.

So instead of going with Ransom and Bitty to free Dex from the hospital, he’s with Chowder and Lardo in Dex’s dorm room. They’ve been in there all day, doing laundry, gathering supplies, setting up for Dex to come back and need time and space to recover. Nursey is carefully remaking the bed, fluffing the extra pillows Bitty brought them before leaving for the hospital when the crew comes in, Dex leaning a little heavily on Bitty as they walk.

Chowder rushes towards Dex, gently embracing him as he shifts Dex’s weight off of Bitty.

“Thanks man,” Dex says with a smile, a little stiff at the edges, probably feeling the pain of his ribs now that he’s off the good drugs from the hospital.

“Of course!” Chowder enthuses, his megawatt smile brightening the room as he shuffles Dex towards the freshly made bed.

“I’d say you guys didn’t need to do all this,” Dex says as he’s getting arranged on the bed, “but I was actually dreading coming back to this room as messy as it was.”

Nursey, Chowder and Lardo all look at each other in confusion. The only thing ‘out of place’ was the duffle bag someone had thrown in Dex’s room after the game, his backpack strewn next to the desk and a few papers on top of the desk. That’s it. There were no clothes strewn about, no books in disarray, nothing to indicate a messy room.

They shrug and let it go, maybe the slight concussion affected Will’s short term memory or something.

The team hovers until Dex just laughs at them all standing around and shoos them out a few minutes later. Bitty and Nursey are the last two in the room with him and Bitty is just kind of flitting from place to place, making sure the cough medicine from the pharmacy is within reach.

“Bits, I promise I’m going to survive,” Dex says with a gentle smile and Nursey wishes he was on the receiving end of one of those smiles. “Besides, if I need something Nurse lives right upstairs,” he says tentatively and they both look at him.

“Yeah, of course, whatever you need man,” he finds himself saying and they both are smiling now, Bitty more concerned than Dex seems to be.

“Okay, fine I’m going, I should get to class anyway,” Bitty says, adjusting the blanket covering Dex one final time before he heads for the door, sending Nursey a _look_ as he goes. But he and Bitty have been texting all weekend and he was able to at least attempt to explain why he’d been upset enough to yell at Dex in the hospital. Bitty knows what he’s going to try and do once he finally has Dex alone.

And yet, when he finally does have Dex alone, Bitty closing the door behind him Nursey suddenly finds himself panicking internally over starting the whole conversation. He goes to Dex’s desk and listens to Dex sigh and lean more fully into the pillows on his bed. Nursey wanders the room in silence and Dex gives him about a minute and a half of such behavior before he calls him out.

“Shouldn't you be in class?” he asks, sounding more tired than accusatory.

Nursey doesn’t even think about it before he responds, he just lets the words that he’s kept pent up inside him leave his lips and hopes for the best.

“There is literally no class more important to me than you,” he answers quietly, staring at the books on the shelf above Dex’s desk for another moment before he turns and sees an irritated expression marring Dex’s features.

“Oh yeah,” he says disbelievingly, “You sure articulated that when you were yelling at me after I'd just woken up in a hospital bed with a broken rib, slight concussion and pneumonia,” he continues, sneering a little, sounding both defensive and something like hurt.

“You scared the shit out of me!” Nursey cries, “And then I scared the shit out of myself because I knew I liked you but you weren't breathing and there was blood and I immediately thought I'd _lost_ you and I held your head in my lap while the medics found your pulse and got you on the stretcher,” he rambles, too busy spilling his guts to fully appreciate the stunned look on Dex’s face, “I'm so fucking gone over you and your beautiful face. I couldn't breathe because you _weren’t_ breathing and then they got you off the ice and I couldn’t follow you to the hospital I had to stay and beat that team into the ice. And then we made it to the hospital and you weren’t in a room yet and I had to wait in that stupid waiting room and watch everyone else get news and updates. And then we were in your room and you were in that bed and I just- just- stop me any time here,” he says at last, out of breath and flushed with all that he’s admitted.

“You think I’m beautiful?” Dex asks, sounding shocked and Nursey laughs only slightly manically before he walks over to the bed and sits gently on the edge.

“Yeah,” he sighs, “I hope that’s alright,” he adds nervously, fidgeting with his hands.

Dex sighs and leans back into the pillows, eyes closed and mouth turned down into a frown. Nursey feels his heart start to race, he knew rejection was possible but now that it’s happening he’s suddenly unprepared to deal with the fallout.

“Typical Derek,” Dex starts with another sigh, “I should have known we’d get together as a result of one of us being a jerk but seriously, did you have to yell at me? While I was in the hospital? How am I supposed to explain to my mom that you realized your feelings for me while being an ass?”

Nursey gapes, mouth opening and closing a few times before he realizes what he’s doing and finds his words.

“You talk to your mom about me?” he asks and Dex snorts.

“Dude, she’s known about my crush on you longer than I’ve known,” he admits and Nursey is left reeling once again.

“Wait, you’re out? You have a crush on me? What is going on right now. Is this real life?”

Dex laughs, keeping an arm around his ribs as he does his other hand reaching for something on the night stand.

“You think you’re confused? You’re not the one on heavy pain killers, man,” he says, shaking the bottle of pills, “I’m having a hard time believing you actually said the words ‘your beautiful face.’ That’s more like a fever dream than reality.”

Nursey frowns and lifts a hand to take the pills back and set them on the stand again. He leans in and cradles Dex’s face in his hands and looks at him seriously.

“William Poindexter. You annoy me,” he starts and Dex rolls his eyes, “You challenge me. You make me a better hockey player and a better student. Not only is your face beautiful but _you_ are a beautiful person and I would very much like to take you on a date, or twenty,” he finishes softly and Dex’s eyes are big and surprised.

“Wow,” he breathes, “Could you do me a favor and say all that again when I’m not high on Vicodin?”

Nursey leans in and presses a kiss to Will’s cheek before maneuvering himself onto the bed, squishing himself against the wall so he doesn’t put too much pressure on Dex.

“Sure thing, babe,” he answers as he cuddles in, relishing the fact that Dex brings his arm up and puts it on his shoulders.

They wake up from their nap a little while later when the door swings open and Chowder walks in, already talking,

“Dex!! You got me the new Sharks sweatshirt I can’t believe,“ he stops his excited speech short upon seeing Nursey in the bed tangled up with Dex.

“Oh my god,” he says and Nursey buries his face back behind Dex’s chest, he’s not awake enough to explain.

“Overnight delivery really works, eh?” Dex tries to distract but Chowder is not to be deterred.

“This sweatshirt is the greatest thing since my last Sharks sweatshirt but what’s more important is that Nursey is in your bed right now. Please tell me he didn’t yell at you again.”

“Nah man,” Dex says and Nursey can hear his smile in his voice, “He didn’t yell.”

“Oh good,” Chowder enthuses, “I wasn’t sure I’d be able to get him out of your bed without hurting you but if you’re okay with him there then I’ll go, I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

“No problem, Chowder, just uh, maybe don’t tell everyone what you saw, we kind of want to tell the team ourselves,” Dex continues and Nursey resists the urge to pinch his side.

“Oh,” he hears Chowder say, voice shocked, “Oh you mean you and him are, you were, oh _wow_ I need to text before I ever barge into either of your dorm rooms ever again,” he finishes, exiting the room before Dex can stop him. It takes Nursey a second to stop giggling and lift his face up to see an exasperated Dex staring down at him.

“Well, the pain in my ribs area is telling me I am no longer under the influence of drugs so get to repeating yourself so I can take some more.”

Nursey grins and sits up, gently straddling Dex’s lap, making sure not to put all of his weight on top of him.

“William Poindexter, will you go out on a date with me and annoy, challenge and enthrall me as my boyfriend?” Nursey asks quietly and Dex smiles, soft and pleased.

“It would be my pleasure to do all of the above, Derek Nurse,” he answers before he gets a glint in his eye, “In fact, why don’t we have our first date right now. I am not allowed to get back on the ice for at least six weeks which means I get to eat whatever I want for at least one of them and right now I want a brownie from Annie’s.”

Nursey laughs as he crawls out of Dex’s lap and then leans over to press a quick, chaste kiss to his lips.

“What do I get if I leave your warm bed for the cold outside to bring you not only a brownie from Annie’s but a burger and fries from that diner down the street too?” he asks, completely expecting the resulting moan of pleasure.

“Oh god, I will tell you the _entire_ story of bringing my first boyfriend home to my parents,” Dex responds and Nursey kisses him again.

“Deal.”

*

**IT’S FUCKING FREEZING OUT HERE**

Dex laughs so hard he cries from the pain it sends through his ribs but it’s worth it. Because Nursey comes back with a burger and fries, a milkshake and a brownie and tea in a thermos and lets Dex warm him up for the rest of the night.

 

**

 


End file.
